


The Invite

by batty4u



Series: An Idiot's Guide to a Higher Education [8]
Category: The Avengers
Genre: M/M, Mentions of traumatic accidents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batty4u/pseuds/batty4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone had that one friend with whom nothing was awkward, the one friend with whom you could share everything. For Tony that was Clint. They had met while Tony had been at MIT and Clint had just moved to town and was looking for a friend or two. Shit went down and soon they were joined at the hip in more ways than one.</p>
<p>Always.</p>
<p>So when Tony saw him standing in his doorway he wasn’t really sure how to react.</p>
<p>Because it was Clint and nothing was supposed to be awkward with Clint.</p>
<p>And yet he had just finished masturbating in another guy’s jeans.</p>
<p>How did he explain this one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Invite

**Author's Note:**

> Introducing so new plot points with this one guys :)  
> Heads up, mentions of a traumatic accident.

Everyone had that one friend with whom nothing was awkward, the one friend with whom you could share everything. For Tony that was Clint. They had met while Tony had been at MIT and Clint had just moved to town and was looking for a friend or two. Shit went down and soon they were joined at the hip in more ways than one.

Always.

So when Tony saw him standing in his doorway he wasn’t really sure how to react.

Because it was Clint and nothing was supposed to be awkward with Clint.

And yet he had just finished masturbating in another guy’s jeans.

How did he explain this one?

“No really who’s Steve?” Clint asked again, smile getting wider. “Someone I should be jealous of? Haven’t seen you bend like that in-”

“None of your goddamn business,” Tony snapped, rolling off the mattress and hurrying to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Clint laughed. “yeah, ok, sure. He your new boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Shame. He probably should be. When you start jacking off to someone, that’s usually a sign.”

Tony glared into the mirror, he wasn’t ready to go down that road, not even in the slightest, no matter how pretty Steve was or how nice he had been. He just wasn’t ready.

“Wait-” Tony’s head snapped up. “Mother fucker where is he?” He sprinted past Clint and tore through the apartment.

“Where’s who?”

“Where the fuck are you hiding him, you didn’t go home last night, you were with him, where the flying fuck is he?” Tony pressed himself up against the windows. “Is he hiding outside? Oh you did not pull that drop off a block away bullshit did you? Bitch you did!” he tried to jump the coffee table and make a beeline for the door, part of him praying he could at least glimpse whatever car Clint’s sex toy was driving off in, but the jeans hung too low around his hips and his feet caught up in them and he fell face first to the floor. “FUCK!”

Laughing so hard Tony could feel him shaking; Clint helped him to his feet. “Dude, he’s long gone.”

“Fucker.”

“I told you, it’s complicated.” Clint patted Tony’s head. “I can’t talk about it yet.”

Tony glared at him. “You got laid again didn’t you?”

Clint smiled.

“Lucky fucking bastard.”

“More than once.”

“God I hate you.”

Silence as they just stood there, Clint giggling into his hand and Tony fuming.

“How many times?”

“Four or five in total?”

Tony made a strangled noise. “Jesus Christ, Barton. Control your dick, please.”

“Nope, never again, because holy-”

“Oh spare me the details,” Tony groaned, flopping down on the couch. “The last thing I need to hear is how wonderful your sex life has gotten.”

Clint lifted Tony’s legs and slid under them, hand on his knees. “So who’s Steve?”

“A guy.”

“Clearly, because I’m guess those are his.” Clint pulled at the jeans. “You want to bang him?”

Tony sighed, an arm over his eyes. “I don’t know Clint. Yes, no, maybe, fuck.”

“Why not?” Tony didn’t reply and Clint nodded. “Right. The nightmares and shit.”

Ok so Tony had lied. Clint knew about the nightmares. But only because he and Tony had ended up passed out in the same bed after a night of drinking far too many times. He didn’t know the details, definitely not the details Jarvis knew, but he had inferred enough from the nightmares and the problem Tony had with guys grabbing below the belt.

“It’s not as scary now.” Tony muttered.

“That’s good.”

“And Steve would be nice about it. If he were gay.”

“Who is he?”

“Steve Rogers.”

Clint blinked. “The football captain?” Tony nodded. “Well hot damn, Tones.”

“Yeah, I’m screwed.”

“You might get lucky.”

“Oh and he’d just magically be gay?”

Clint shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah, like you getting laid before me.”

“Exactly.”

*

No matter how many times his forehead and the wall connected, Steve still couldn’t get Tony out of his head. His brain cells would probably give out before that happened. He didn’t even know why he had a problem with it, but he did.

He knew he was bisexual. That bit he had figured out in high school. That was hardly the problem. And clearly Tony was bisexual, if their first meeting was anything to go by. So the fact he was attracted to the other’ lithe body and pretty dark face was not the problem here.

Hell he’s surprised he had even made it out of Tony’s bed the night before. Between the comfort, the vulnerability Tony had showed him, and the fact they were lying there together Steve was sure he would have done something stupid and acted on impulse.

That was it.

It was the vulnerability.

Tony was not an open person. It took very little for anyone with half a brain to see that. Tony had spines for skin and a layer of bedrock under that, but it was filled with so many little cracks that just the right amount of pressure from the right person and it would shatter and he’d be left completely defenseless.

And that scared Steve.

Because Bucky had been the same way, and when Bucky had finally snapped-

Steve shook himself. That wasn’t going to help him. Bucky was gone, moving forward was more important.

Tony could be that step forward. But if Steve got under that bedrock under Tony’s skin then what was he supposed to do? Tony had only let him in an inch the night before and Steve wasn’t even sure he’d meant to. And it had been good; a relief to see something other than the asshole Steve had met initially. But still, as good a person as Steve tried to be, he wasn’t sure how well he’d handle another lover having an emotional break down on him. Bucky’s had been bad, so very, very bad, and he hadn’t come out of it in one piece and Steve was still haunted by it, by how scared he was, the hospital, the last glimpse of him before Bucky was carted off for surgery.

And that had been it. Bucky was gone. And Steve had to rethink what it meant to love someone.

Now Tony seemed tougher than Bucky had been, a lot more cynical and a lot more tainted, but tough. Life clearly had not been nice to him, or else he wouldn’t have been wandering around wasted and beaten after a party on a Thursday night. A guy as good looking as Tony would have been out with a date, or in bed with someone or maybe even two. But he hadn’t and as much as he had tried to hide it, his body had betrayed him.

Steve had seen him flinch away when he had tried to touch Tony’s hips. He had heard him while they slept, dry sobs and whines, a name Steve didn’t know and at this point didn’t like because Tony had gasped it out in fear. Hell Steve probably wouldn’t even have cared if Tony hadn’t been so broken when he had found him. He shouldn’t have cared, because now he was stuck in this mess, in the always frustrating “to date the emotionally scarred bad boy or not”.

Tony probably wasn’t even into dating. He seemed more like the one night stand kind of guy, but maybe, Steve hoped, that was only because it was all he’d ever had. Maybe if Tony had the chance to really get to know someone, spend time with them, do more than just sleep together, maybe he would-

Steve sighed and banged his head against his bathroom door again.

God this was pathetic.

Best to get it over with.

He moved from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and grabbed the phone from his bed. Rhodey had given him Tony’s number just in case anything happened again.

He punched in the number and waited.

“Yellow?”

“Tony? Hey it’s Steve.”

He smiled at the choking sound Tony made. “How the hell did you get my- mother fucker- Rhodey!”

“Sorry, I asked for it,” Steve explained, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “Just in case, you know?”

“What do you want?” Tony asked, voice sharp.

“Are you… Are you busy this afternoon?”

A pause. “I’m sorry what?”

“Are you busy? I have an art seminar at 3 and I need to bring a friend. I just thought maybe-”

“You’re the goddamn quarterback I’m sure you’ve got plenty of other friends will to follow you around.”

Steve sighed. “And if I didn’t want anyone else?”

“You are getting very attached, Rogers.”

“I noticed.”

A sigh. “What’s this art thing-a-ma-bob?”

“Live sketch class. Sort of. Prof. Logan holds a studio session on Saturdays so we can get some extra work done. He wanted us to bring a friend we can use as a model.”

“I am not stripping-”

“Not a nude model,” Steve said quickly, trying to block out the mental images. “Just for a facial portrait.”

“Oh… Logan?”

“Howlett.”

“Don’t know him.”

“Probably for the best.”

He heard someone whispering to Tony. “Fuck off Clint, I’m on the phone. Uh, you said at 3?”

“I can come pick you up or we can meet there.” Steve closed his eyes. Either he said yes and Steve let himself be stupidly hopeful, or he said no and he called Jan to sulk.

“Sure, what the hell. I’m grounded so I’ve got nothing better to do.”

Steve had never been more relieved.

“And you’re feeding me after,” Tony added.

“Deal.”

The phone clicked and Steve just stared at it. The comic Tony had given him sat on his night stand by the pack of cigarettes he had never given back. He was kind of curious what Tony had done with his jeans, if he wore them, or just left them lying around. He pictured Tony’s thin hips, the waistline slipping down them, inch by inch.

But then Steve remembered the bruises, black and blue finger tips in his tanned skin and an unfamiliar anger brewed in his gut.


End file.
